If Only
by MyFavouriteObsession
Summary: Character suicide (unless I expand it from a one shot) Quinn has been self harming for the past year, but has managed to hide this from all her friends, or at least she thought she had. Possibly triggering and apologies for the awful summary! i wrote this last year but I'm only just uploading :)
**This will probably be a one-shot but please review! This is quite a sad fic that I wrote last year but never published and includes character death (suicide) so please don't read if you don't like it, especially as it may be triggering.**

 **Quinn's POV…**

Pressing harder on the blade, I add another cut to the myriad that are already decorating my wrist. Letting out a sigh of relief, I slice again and again until all I can see is red. I smile down at it until I hear my ringtone and reach out to pick my phone off my bedside table, dabbing at the mess with a tissue using my other hand.

"Quinn!" I hear Santana's impatient voice as soon as I press 'Answer'. "Me and Britt are waiting outside, where are you?!"

"Shit." I mutter under my breath, too quiet for her to hear. "I'm coming now, sorry."

I cut off before dropping my blade back into my makeup bag and getting off my bed to pull my Cheerio's jacket on. I stuff a clean tissue between the sleeve and my skin then pick up my rucksack with the makeup bag inside.

"Bye Mom!" I call as I open the front door and run down the path to Santana's car. She points to the empty shotgun seat through the window so I open the door and climb in beside her.

"Q why are you wearing your jacket?" She asks with a raised eyebrow. "It's like 100 degrees."

Crap. I turn away to fasten my seatbelt so she can't see my cheeks flush.

"Yeah I guess I'm just a bit chilly." I lie, hoping she'll leave it. Thankfully she does and just switches the radio on as she starts to drive.

"Can I have my Disney CD back on instead San?" Brittany asks from the backseat. I hear Santana sigh.

"Sure Britt- Britt." She replies and presses the power button on her built in CD player. When "A Whole New World" starts to play, I realise that they must have been listening to it before I got in and she turned the engine off. We drive in silence - with the exception of Brittany's quiet singing behind me- until we reach the school parking lot.

Just as I unbuckle my seatbelt, Santana turns to me.

"You're leaving your jacket in here right?" She questions.

"Erm no.." I answer uncertainly; I don't want anyone to see my scars or scratches.

"Come on Q." she pleads, her tone irritated. "You can't wear that in boiling hot weather you'll just look odd." She starts to tug at the sleeves so I pull it off reluctantly, taking care to hide my wrists from her view.

"Can we go now?" I ask pointedly.

"Sure." She replies dryly. We all get out and enter the main door just as the bell rings, signalling that it's time for registration. As we're all in the same home room, we walk together and then sit down in our seats, two seconds earlier than our teacher, Mrs Castle, arrives.

The ten minute session seems to last forever with Principal Figgins droning on so I take my red sweatbands from my bag and put them on my wrists, hoping I'll be able to get away with them until Coach Sue catches me. The bell finally rings and everyone separates to get to their various lessons. Dragging my feet, I unwillingly go to my locker to retrieve my History folder. As I pull it out, I sense that there's a person standing behind me and I feel someone kissing my neck before I have the chance to turn.

"Hey baby." A familiar voice whispers into my ear, making me smile.

"Hey Sam." I say in return before pivoting to meet his lips with mine.

He wraps his hands around my wrists before placing them on his hips, resting his fingers on mine. I can't help but let out a hiss as the sweatband's scratchy material rubs on my scratches and I curse inwardly for giving in to Santana about the jacket; I usually put up a pretty good fight, I mean I have done for the past year.

"You okay?" Sam murmurs, pulling away. "I didn't hurt you did I?"

"No, no.." I try to convince him. "I'm fine." As we start to kiss again the bell rings loudly, startling us both.

I back away and turn back to my locker to take out my files for my morning classes. I then give Sam a peck on the cheek before making my way to Math. After taking my seat between San and Brittany, our awful teacher, Mr Ringer, shuffles in.

I let out a groan as he sets his briefcase down on his desk and yanks up his trousers, making me wrinkle my nose at the memory of last lesson: Suzy Pepper, the crazy girl who sits diagonally in front of me, asked him for some help so he came to the side of her and bent over her work, giving me and the girls a view of his… behind. I feel Santana nudge me and it's clear that she remembers too as she gives an exaggerated shudder.

"He actually makes me dislike Canadians." She whispers to me and I giggle; that's saying a lot. Santana has always loved the Canadian accent and anyone from Canada (minus Justin Bieber) and for her to claim that she _disliked_ them, well that said a lot. I forget the throbbing pain in my wrist for a while as I laugh at her remark and I feel almost happy for the first time in a long time.

We suffer through the lesson and the rest of the day until the last bell rings and I walk to the choir room where I see Mr Schue and Coach Sylvester bickering over the piano. They stop when they notice me and I see Coach mouth something before she strides over to me.

"And Q, get those things off your arms please. You know Carmel High's team wear them so, at least for now, they're out of the question." She orders as she leaves.

I try to argue but it's no good so I reluctantly take off my sweatbands and sit down in a seat, quietly praying that everyone will be too busy to notice the marks. The room soon fills and Rachel stands in front of us all giving us some speech about how we've all got so much closer and we can all trust each other and blah blah blah. It goes on for over fifteen minutes and I feel like dozing off until I hear the notes to the beginning of "Break free" Rachel starts it off and it's not long before everyone, including me, is up on their feet and dancing as we sing along to Ariana Grande at the tops of our voices.

Near the end of the song, we're all laughing and spinning around, making each other dizzy and by the time it's finished, I've collapsed into a chair beside Santana.

"Well that was fun." I say, out of breath.

"Yes." Agrees Mr Schue, who'd been clapping along and standing beside the piano. "A definite contender for Regionals, good work guys!" I smile as I hear this and turn to see Santana and Rachel exchanging a look before they both turn to me. When they catch my eye, they both look away quickly and I'm about to ask what's going on but the bell rings so I just retrieve my bag.

"Ready to go Q?" asks Santana. "As long as you don't mind listening to Disney again?" I smile at her to confirm that I don't mind and we saunter out to her car before resuming the positions we were in that morning.

The drive home is pretty quiet, which lets me think about how today was a lot better than usual, and I hop out as soon as we reach my house.

"Thanks San!" I call. "Bye Britt! See you two tomorrow!" As I begin the walk up the driveway, a man stumbles out of the front door, fixing his tie and wiping away lipstick from his chin.

"See you tomorrow Judy!" I hear him shout and the almost happiness I'd been feeling leaves as it dawns on me: my mom's been lying to me. The real reason her and dad divorced wasn't him, it was her. She had had her "clients" years ago, when they were on a break, but she promised that she'd stopped that now. I feel tears dripping down my face as I rush past that man and up the stairs.

As soon as I get inside my room, I collapse on my bed, just tired of everything. I lie there for a while before I make the decision to just stop it, stop my hurt and confusion and sense of not belonging. Stop the voices in my head telling me I'm not good enough and just get out of this hell I'm living.

"Go on then" I hear. "It's not like anyone will miss you, and you won't have to suffer this hurt from your mom's _work_ anymore. Santana will be head Cheerio again so she'll be happy, Brittany probably won't notice, and Berry will just be glad to have all the solos again. What's stopping you?"

What indeed? I reach over to open the second drawer of my bedside cabinet and take out the tin I'd been keeping my sleeping pills in.

I was given them after I gave Beth up because I was having so much trouble sleeping but I couldn't take them; they made me feel fuzzy, and I didn't know what was quite happening, it was like I was living a dream, so I stored them up instead and now I can put them to good use. I take off the lid before a different voice, a panicky and concerned voice this time, starts to talk.

"Don't be so stupid." It says. "Come on, stop thinking of everything that's wrong, like Beth and your Mom and Dad's divorce, think of all the good stuff. You have a gorgeous boyfriend, you're head cheerleader, you have an excellent body again, don't give up. Not now."

I listen, glad to be talked out of it again, when I hear my phone beeping. I lean over and unlock it to see a text from Santana.

 _You OK Q? Me and Berry noticed some marks on your wrist in Glee. You're not hurting yourself are you?!_

Fuck. I knew they saw them, I noticed them exchanging glances. Well I can't use the cat excuse; Santana knows I'm allergic and don't have one, I guess I'd better go for the backup excuse.

 _No of course not! I'm fine S, just fell over. Don't worry! xo_

A minute later she responds.

 _Glad to hear it! You know me and the rest of ND thought you might be cutting; we've seen some marks before and were talking about it a few weeks ago. Glad to you know you're okay though! xoxo_

"Well that changes things" I think, and my heart feels like it's breaking. _"talking about it a few weeks ago."_

"So they noticed." I spit out bitterly. "They noticed and they didn't care. If only they'd said something." The second voice, the one that had talked me out of it, disappears and I find myself reaching for the tin again. I pour the pills into my palm and drop two into my mouth before taking a swig from the glass of water on my bedside table.

Another two pills, another mouthful of water, swallow. Repeat.

Another two pills, another mouthful of water, swallow. Repeat.

Another two pills, another mouthful of water, swallow. Repeat.

Another two pills, another mouthful of water, swallow. Repeat.

Again and again until I get lightheaded. I can feel myself smiling as I swallow the last pair and lie back on my bed.

"If only they'd said something..." I whisper, before falling out of consciousness.


End file.
